


The Teenager, in the Study, with a Cell Phone

by amelia_petkova



Category: Clue (1985)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Community: au_bingo, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-13
Updated: 2010-12-13
Packaged: 2017-10-13 16:00:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/139075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amelia_petkova/pseuds/amelia_petkova
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The mansion on the hill has been haunted since the 1950s. But don’t take my word for it—take the ghosts’. Written for the "Fantasy and Supernatural: Ghosts" square on my bingo card.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Teenager, in the Study, with a Cell Phone

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Clue.
> 
> Originally posted to my LJ in August of 2010.

The fire popped and Martina jumped inside her sleeping bag. “Stupid,” she said to herself again. “Stupid, you stupid idiot!” But Jeff and Michael had dared her to spend the night inside the supposedly haunted mansion and she had never backed down before. She pressed a button on her cell phone and the screen lit up. 1:30 AM. The moment dawn arrived—7 o’clock, she had looked it up earlier—she’d be out of there.

Creepy atmosphere aside, the night had been rather dull so far. According to her classmates and the website Michael had found, seven people had been murdered during a dinner party in the 1950s. She had looked all throughout the ground floor of the building and hadn’t seen any signs of suspicious deaths, although there was a broken chandelier in the entrance hall. Using the floor plans Jeff photocopied, she found what used to be the study. She set up camp there, unrolling her sleeping bag and lighting up the fireplace. Aside from dust, the room was in good condition. She even found a bottle that still held liquor but it burned her throat so strongly that she put it away.

Despite many logical thoughts, it is difficult to be alone in a place where people have died after midnight without hearing ghosts in every creak of a building. Every time she began to drop off to sleep, the mansion made noises that jolted her awake. She looked at the time again. Only a few minutes had passed.

“That’s a very interesting little machine,” a man’s voice said.

“Holy shit!” Martina jumped and the cell phone flew across the room.

“Really, you could have found a better way to introduce yourself,” another man said.

Martina yanked the sleeping bag off of her face and looked around. Seven men and women stood around the room, staring at her. Seven see-through men and women.

“Oh crap, it really is haunted,” she moaned.

“But who is she?” asked a woman in an exaggerated French accent. She wore a frilly maid’s outfit too, the kind Martina saw in costume shops.

“So you’re all real?” Martina asked, back against the wall.

“Well, of course,” said a heavyset woman wearing a cook’s outfit, with a knife sticking out of her back. “You’d look forward to company too, if you had only these idiots for company.”

“I second that,” said a man wearing a cop’s uniform.

A man dressed all in black rolled his eyes. “I can’t believe I listened to you, Wadsworth,” he told the first man who had spoken. “‘Just pretend to be the real Mr. Boddy for one evening,’ you said. ‘There’s no danger and you’ll get a nice bonus,’ you said. Well, now I’m stuck with you for all eternity, you idiot!”

“They’re really not as bad as they seem,” a man who had a large lump on his head and was dripping wet said to Martina. “They get a sort of charm after a couple decades.”

Enough was enough, she decided. Some dares just weren’t worth it. Martina ran out of the building, leaving everything behind. The front door slammed shut on her heels.

The singing telegram girl sat on the desk and swung her heels. “I love it when we have company.”


End file.
